The Sentinel
by Jan Lee
Summary: [NOVELLA]. It's only an ancient myth that demons can become human. Tripitaka wonders if there might be some truth in that story. Of course, Monkey, Sandy, and Pigsy think she's nuts. The font demon is just there to obey and maybe to stab them in the back. Trip-centric. Humor/Drama/Action. Immediately follows "A Hero to Save Us All" (S1, Ep. 10). AU, probably.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** [NOVELLA]. It's only an ancient myth that demons can become human. Tripitaka wonders if there might be some truth in that story. Of course, Monkey, Sandy, and Pigsy think she's nuts. The font demon is just there to obey and maybe to stab them in the back. Trip-centric. Humor/Drama/Action. Immediately follows "A Hero to Save Us All" (S1, Ep. 10). AU, probably.

 **Rating** : T

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own "The New Legends of Monkey".

 **A/N:** So this. Love the show, and something about evil guys makes me want to change their lives. Anyway, here we go. Hope you enjoy!

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 **The Sentinel**

 **~ Chapter 1 ~**

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"Can't we, uh, dispel him or something?" Pigsy asked. He shuffled a few steps to the right and then a few steps back to the left. "His eyes follow me around."

"I don't trust him," said Monkey, as he leaned on his staff. "What if it has an idea that we don't like?"

Tripitaka sighed. "No. He'll be a useful ally. We can use him to get into places we normally can't."

"We've done a decent job of that already," Sandy pointed out. She used her thumbnail to scrape off something that'd dried on her battle ax. "Face it, Tripitaka. Monkey's right. We shouldn't trust this…demon."

They had returned to the dungeons of the Jade Palace after their fight with Devari. The courtyard had emptied of the defeated demons; and so they had gone to the cell where the font demons had been found. The single one left had been this one, the one that had fought Monkey, the one that had murdered the Scholar. This demon had said nothing in his defense as they spoke, but he loomed- -tall, white-haired, and menacing. Tripitaka straightened out her shoulders and stood squarely in front of him.

"Well, what do you think we should do with you?" she asked him.

His cold blue gaze flicked straight down his nose. "Only my master thinks. I am merely the instrument of her will."

"But you do have thoughts. How else do you decide to fight or to retreat?" she asked. "I've seen you bested by Monkey and magic yourself away before he could land a killing blow."

"That is not thinking. That is self-preservation."

"Ah. I see," replied Tripitaka. She gestured over her shoulder. "My gods here want to destroy you. What does your self-preservation tell you to do?"

"What is my master's will?"

"And if I told you to fall on your sword?"

He answered after a pause. Was it because she'd taken him off his guard? Or did it prove her point because he had to choose his answer? "Is that my master's will?"

She considered him a moment. He had destroyed the only home she had ever known. He had stalked her, relentlessly, had without mercy killed the Scholar- -the single person who she admired and respected and loved as a father- -and anyone else that had gotten in his way. He should be punished, she thought. But dispelling him was too easy, too…gentle. She may be Tripitaka, the hope of gods and humans, but she would not be soft on those who injured her and others.

"It is not. At least, not yet," she told him. "I'm curious. What do you know about summoning demons?"

"Tripitaka," interrupted Sandy. "Can we talk? In private?"

"Sure. Stay here," she told the demon.

"I will remain until you have need of me, master."

Monkey and Pigsy opted to stay behind as well. She followed Sandy outside the cell and around a corner. The foul stench of the sewers had leached through the walls and stunk up the air. The damp and the darkness had dripped great sheets of black, slimy mold down the stone walls. Tripitaka did not wish, under any circumstances, to brush against the unknown fungus, so she kept her arms tight to her body.

"What is it, Sandy?"

Sandy leaned her battle ax to the side, then turned and took Tripitaka's hands in her own. "Listen. I know that we need allies, and desperately so. However, we should not trust demons under any circumstances. You want to use this demon to our advantage, but he is too dangerous. He will turn against us at any given opportunity."

"Then we do not give him the opportunity. We get as much information from him as we can, and then…dispel him."

"What do you mean by information?" Sandy asked.

"I know mostly about the gods," answered Tripitaka, "but very little about demons. I have one or two old stories the Scholar told me, which were very general. I have questions, so many questions. I want to know more to understand what we're up against."

"And you think this demon will give you the information you seek?"

Tripitaka smiled. "Yes, I think so. Lend me a lock of your hair, and I will command him to tell me everything he knows."

"You promise that once your questions have been answered, you will return him to his place of origin?"

Tripitaka hesitated. "You mean kill him?"

"Yes," Sandy answered. "I mean kill him."

"Once I have my questions answered, I will release him from this realm." Tripitaka squeezed Sandy's hands. "This might give us the advantage we need against the demons. We might even find out where the other scrolls are if they've been removed from where Monkey hid them!"

Sandy took a deep breath, her piercing eyes closed then opened. "If you think this is worthwhile, then I'm with you. But if he even looks at you the wrong way, I won't hesitate to smite him."

"Thank you, Sandy. I will be careful," Tripitaka said. "Now, take Monkey and Pigsy with you and see what you can do to help the townspeople and the other gods we freed. I will begin interrogating the demon."

Sandy unsheathed a short knife from her belt and in one swift movement, sliced a white curl from her voluminous, unkempt nest of hair. She handed the lock to Tripitaka. "Here. Command him to obey and protect you no matter the cost. Please."

"I will do so," Tripitaka replied. "Thank you. You are truly a good friend."

Sandy smiled and patted Tripitaka's shoulder. "I'll get Monkey and Pigsy. Good luck."

She took up her battle ax and strode down the hall and back around the corner. Tripitaka examined the white lock of hair between her fingers. The font demon had been quite accommodating since her previous usage of the Font. He had obeyed her and called her master and that made her wonder. Sandy wanted her to use the hair that moment, but perhaps she could get what she needed without using it. She pulled free a handkerchief from her belt pouch and folded Sandy's hair into it, then tucked it back into the pouch. She would use it when and if she had to.

When she returned to the cell, Monkey remained, but Sandy and Pigsy had left. "I'm not letting you out of my sight with… _that_ ," he told her as explanation. His contempt could not have been more obvious.

"Fine," she said. "Let's find somewhere less depressing to talk. Demon, follow us."

"I will follow you, master," he said.

Monkey mimicked him in a puerile taunt. "I will follow you, master."

The demon stilled, and she let him calculate his response to see what he'd say. "That's a pretty crown you're wearing. Is it for decoration?"

Monkey's face scrunched, nostrils flared, and Tripitaka stepped between them. "Enough. We're wasting time. Follow me." The demon is cunning, she thought, and more autonomous than he lets on. He might be more trouble than he's worth.

Having been reminded of Tripitaka's power, Monkey said nothing further and neither did the demon. Tripitaka had taken the dungeon keys from one of the dead guards, and she closed and locked the door to the Font. There was no sense in leaving it open; she would have to find and trust someone to keep guard of it, but that would have to come a little later.

Tripitaka led the long way out of the chilly dungeon and up several flights of steps. They wound through the Jade Palace to a veranda that overlooked the dismal courtyard. It saddened her that such a sacred and ancient place had been sullied with graffiti, filth, and the general disregard of anything beautiful and good. The sun was out, peeking from behind harmless clouds, and its rays were warm and cheerful. She leaned against a railing to gather together her wits; they were needed to spar with the demon.

Though the gods were able to recover their strength with a few hours' rest, Tripitaka had not slept well in many days and had not one wink the previous night. Exhaustion burned her eyes, and she realized a headache pulsed in her temples. The sun did not help her feel awake- -it lulled her, ebbing her energy. Her eyelids had grown heavy.

"Tripitaka?" Monkey asked. He hovered near her shoulder. "Are you well?"

"The little monk needs rest," said the demon from behind Monkey. "Even a foolish god should be able to see that."

The insult would have been brushed off had it come from Pigsy or Sandy. Since it came from neither of them, Monkey spun with his usual overreaction and gestured with his staff. "This foolish god will evaporate you where you stand!"

"Stop it. Please, Monkey, don't let him antagonize you," Tripitaka said. She pressed the bridge of her nose to clear some of the haze fogging her vision. "Demon, come here. I want to speak with you."

The demon shifted to obey that instant, but Monkey stepped in front of him, blocking him from Tripitaka's view. The god and the demon were chest to chest, eye to eye, inches apart. Though Tripitaka could not see Monkey's features, his tone gave her a vivid understanding of how malevolent his glare must have been.

"I'm warning you," he said, jabbing his finger into the demon's armored shoulder. "You're alive because she allows it."

The demon said and did nothing, his gaze fearless, and Tripitaka noticed that tiny smirk curled in the corner of his mouth. After another intense moment, Monkey stepped aside to allow him to pass. The demon stood a respectful distance from her, if only because Monkey would not have allowed him to stand too close. She studied the characters falling down his forehead from his hairline to the point between his eyebrows- -it seemed to be the spell that kept him in their realm. He had a personality under that pallid skin and unnerving gaze, and she wanted to uncover it a little.

"Do you have a name, demon?" she asked.

"I do not."

"Do names not matter to demons?"

"It depends on the demon," he replied. "Some demons assign themselves names. Some demons remember their names from before. Some demons have no use for a name."

 _Remember their names from before?_ That would be something she'd have to explore, but not now. "Which are you?"

"I have no use for a name."

"Everyone has use for a name. How do you know when you're being summoned?" It was a guess Tripitaka made; she wasn't sure whether or not names were important in summoning demons.

"The Font is cursed, and as part of the curse, I serve whoever uses it. For the summoning spell, all one needs to mention is 'strongest'. No name is necessary, as I am the strongest one."

"So there are other demons who serve the Font."

"Yes."

"What is the purpose of these questions, Tripitaka?" Monkey interjected.

She'd quite forgotten he'd been there and his sudden animation surprised her. The demon glanced to Monkey, and there was that smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth again. He must have a sense of humor somewhere inside him - -it was a reasonable explanation for the quirk. He had been standing with his arms loose at his sides, but he shifted, opening his hands.

The demon asked, "Does my master wish me to silence the interruption?"

"No, that is not necessary." She turned her patient attention to Monkey. "What I _wish_ is to establish his abilities, Monkey. We must know the strengths and weaknesses of our allies and enemies before we can plan a strategy to defeat them."

Monkey leveled a serious look at her. "You sound like the Master."

"It is what the Scholar would say as well," she replied.

A vicious throb caused her to wince and rub her forehead. She'd ignored the headache up to this point, but the consistent pain could be abated no longer. In fact, dizziness swarmed around her, encroached her vision, and her knees weakened. She sagged, losing the battle to keep on her feet, and she fully expected to crash to the floor. That never happened. Firm hands caught her shoulders, and the pungent smell of well-worked leather and a smokiness, not unpleasant, which reminded her of a campfire, woke her up a bit.

"Don't touch her with your filth," said Monkey's hard voice, from far away. "I've got her. And don't you put your hands anywhere near her ever again."

Tripitaka blinked further awake. She felt…weightless, protected. Monkey had cradled her close to his chest, her head under his chin. "You must rest," he told her. "Once you've slept, you can continue this madness you insist upon."

She said nothing, but before Monkey turned, she received another intense glare from the demon. His default look was an ominous death-intent, so it could have been nothing or it could be he had thought to kill them. He could have done so, she thought, unwillingly. Why didn't he spring a surprise attack?

Her answer before she slid into blissful sleep should have unsettled her, but she conceded to her fatigue too quickly. Her answer to her own question was this: the font demon was biding his time.

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 **A/N:** Thanks to the single person who reads this, hah! See you next time, dear one.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ugh. I'm still holding on to the belief that there will be a season 2. In the meanwhile, please enjoy after your long, long wait. In what was a pleasant surprise, more than a single person read this story. Thank you for your patience and time, dear readers!

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 **~ Chapter 2 ~**

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 **A beam of bright,** yellow sunshine woke Tripitaka from her dreamless sleep. She stretched, flipped off the coverlet, and blinked clearness into her eyes. A modest bedchamber- -not very high, but enough that she could see the stretch of thatched and wood shingled roofs- -overlooked the village at the foot of the Jade Mountain. She was refreshed, but as she faced the warmth of the sun, she became confused. How as it possible for the sun to be rising, as the town was gathered to the east of the palace, when she'd been resting for only a few hours?

Unless…she'd slept a whole day and night through. And, as if to support the conclusion, her bladder needed immediate relief, not to mention how her stomach growled! Tripitaka crossed the bedchamber. The rich tapestries and finely woven rugs were tattered, but the demon filth had not discolored the walls or dulled the polish on the wooden furniture. At least she hadn't been wallowing in squalor!

Tripitaka opened the heavy door, her mind already addressing the question of where her gods were and what they were up to- -including the demon. Who should stride up the hall, handsome face marred with a scowl, but Monkey?

"Tripitaka!" he called. "It's about time you rose. I don't trust the demon," he continued before she could answer his greeting. "It stalks around and causes the women and the children in the village to scream and faint away in fright. A mirror even shattered as it walked by! It's dangerous," Monkey said as he followed her right up to the privy door, "and I think we should send it back to the void."

Tripitaka took in Monkey's obvious exaggeration. However, to let a demon walk around without a close monitor was unwise. "He was out among the townsfolk?"

Monkey hesitated, opened his mouth, and thought twice before he said, "No. It insisted on staying outside your door to guard you. He clearly waited for a chance to murder you, but I kept watch."

"No screaming children, no fainting women?"

"If it was allowed to roam, they'd scream and faint."

Tripitaka arched an eyebrow. "The mirror?"

"I may have swung my staff at it," Monkey responded with zero embarrassment. "But only because it had a suspicious look about it."

"Ah. I am to assume the demon has done nothing untoward?"

"It's a demon. What more evidence do you need?"

Sighing, Tripitaka opened the privy but to her consternation, Monkey grasped at the door as if to follow her inside. She tugged at the handle to free the door from his grasp. Monkey, however, did not relinquish his grip. He wrenched it open; she wrenched it closed. "Monkey! You can't come in here with me."

"What if it goes after you while you're squatting? You'd be helpless against it!"

"You give me more credit than I am willing to accept," interrupted a smooth, new voice from not too far away. "Besides, I do not kill unless ordered to do so."

Monkey was taken aback, probably because the demon's approach was silent. In his surprise, Monkey let the door go, and grateful for the interruption, Tripitaka closed herself in the privy stall and slid home the wooden bolt, in case Monkey attempted to join her. Through the thick wooden slats of the door, she heard Monkey and the demon banter, Monkey's voice more staccato and angered than the demon's controlled tones. She relieved herself as quickly as she could- -since she felt a fight brew between god and demon- -and exited the privy.

As she thought, Monkey and the demon were several paces apart, facing each other with utter scorn writ on their equally chiseled features. Monkey extended his staff with a slight movement of his wrist; the demon conjured twin swords in the palms of his hands. The energy crackled and snapped. Tripitaka believed Monkey when he bragged about his vast power as the stories the Scholar told her provided ample evidence of his cunning and usage of magic to confound enemies and win battles; however, because of the disuse of those powers for 500 years, though it was clear Monkey was in a weakened state, he could defeat the demon if provoked to it- -and afterward, her questions could not be answered.

She did the only thing she could think of to do. She stood between them. Again.

"Tripitaka! Stand aside! It is time for me to erase this… _thing_ …from existence!"

She did not stand aside and instead, spread her hands to beseech her favorite god. "Monkey, please calm down. My decision to keep the demon alive was not without reason. Unless…you question my judgment?"

Monkey kept his stormy eyes level with hers. She hadn't asked the question to threaten him, but to understand his motives for the conflict with the demon. It would hurt her if he didn't trust her, and this implicit understanding made itself present on Monkey's features as they fell. Without comment, he retracted the staff into its dart form and wound his hair up into the habitual top knot. Behind her, she sensed a stirring, a suction of some kind, and she guessed the demon had dispelled the swords.

"I trust you. I don't trust _it_." Monkey jerked his chin to the placid demon across from her. "And I never will."

"I understand," she replied. "I will do my best to get what I need from him as quickly as I can. Until I do so or until you have a moral reason to fight him, please leave him alone."

"You're saying when it steps out of line, I can kill it?"

"Yes."

Monkey nodded once. "I accept those terms." He pointed to the demon. "I'm watching you."

"I am gratified to be the subject of such admiration," the demon responded, and she heard the little smirk in his voice. "Master, I await your command."

Monkey, of course, snorted, and both she and the demon ignored him. She said, "Let's go to the kitchen for some breakfast. Demon, accompany me."

The demon bobbed his head, gestured with a mere splay of his fingers, and she took the lead, as Monkey would follow behind to shield her from anything the demon might try. As they wound through the cool and shadowed halls of the Jade Palace, Tripitaka stifled a yawn. Her mind was sluggish from the hard sleep and aside from fulfilling basic needs, she hadn't considered a plan yet to deal with the demon. Regardless, she remembered their conversation yesterday, and as they had began a discussion of names prior to her faint, she believed it would be wise to further explore the subject.

 _Demon. We've always referred to him by what he is._ He had said he had no use for a name, but she wasn't so sure. Maybe he had never been in a situation where someone cared enough to assign him a name. He was referred to as 'strongest' in the Font's curse, but he was no longer in the Font. He was in their realm, so he must abide by their realm's rules. Well, she amended, so far he had followed the rules. She assumed there would be a turning point in the near future, a point when the demon would show his dark qualities and attack her or other innocents out of pique or to test her or her gods. The idea, then, was to weigh the tipping point in her favor. _How will a name be the tipping point?_

How could a simple name do anything?

The question floated in her thoughts, and when realization struck, she stopped in her tracks so abruptly, Monkey stumbled into her. He steadied them both before they crashed to the floor.

"Tripitaka?"

"I'm fine. I thought of something."

He narrowed his eyes, but adjusted her in the right direction and didn't question her further.

 _Names hold power._ She had shed her prior name to become the monk named Tripitaka, the hope of gods and humans. Tripitaka, the name gods revered and spoke with awe. Tripitaka, the name demons would fear as news of Devari's defeat and the battle for Jade Mountain spread. Tripitaka was a name which held power. Hadn't she thought she didn't deserve the name? Throughout their journey, _she had become Tripitaka._ The realization fully woke her, gave her confidence. A name would humanize the demon. A name would give him an identity. A name might expel the evil which poisoned him. Or, if not expel, stave it so he would think twice about betrayal and murder. He would become the name she assigned him.

Before they even entered the kitchen, delicious smells wafted along the corridors: freshly baked bread, roasting meat, the smoke of a wooden fire. It was Pigsy who operated the kitchen like a general operated an army. A huge pig rotated on a spit in the hearth. Several sweaty women with corded arms slotted dough into ovens with long wooden paddles and slipped out the baked loaves. At the counter, Pigsy was in the midst of chopping a gigantic mound of root vegetables- -onions, leeks, carrots, potatoes, celery.

"Ah, just the young monk I wanted to see," Pigsy said, his glee evident in the rapidity of the chopping knife. Chunks of vegetables flew across the counter in multicolored arcs. Monkey ducked as several potato squares soared toward his head. "Monkey, welcome. Frightface, unwelcome. Tripitaka, I suppose after your long sleep, you're ready for some vittles?"

 _Frightface?_ After she checked to see how 'Frightface' reacted to the moniker, Tripitaka took in the sheer amount of food present in the kitchen. "Pigsy, I…uh-"

"You're wondering where all this food came from?" Pigsy did not slow his chopping speed one iota. The knife thwacked with terrifying and monotonous speed on the cutting board. More of a variety of diced vegetables showered them. "Well, I have an answer. Devari's cooks had a whole larder full of goodies. Who knew a demon had such a refined appetite?"

"Demons do not consume human food," stated the demon. He picked a bit of carrot out of his long hair and flicked it away with disdain. "Devari required human slaves to keep up the palace. He fed them as feeding them was less expensive than buying new ones constantly."

The demon's comment served to cease Pigsy's enthusiastic chopping. "What gruesome and unnecessary information. I'll thank you to keep your meal conversation light. People around here like to enjoy their food, you know."

"What is the point of enjoyment? Food is necessary for nourishment, nothing more."

Tripitaka had never heard the sound Pigsy made- -a kind of breathy keening, as though he'd been surprised to see himself mortally wounded. He gestured at the demon with the butcher knife; diced onion flopped off to the floor. Tears streamed over Pigsy's cheeks, not from the onion. "You…you mean ol' Frightface! Take that back!"

Monkey salvaged the situation. "But why so much? Are you feeding the townspeople?"

Pigsy snuffled and used the hem of his very stained and gray apron- -where he'd found the apron, Tripitaka did not know- -to wipe his eyes and nose. "Actually, I thought it might be nice to have a feast for them. A sort of 'you're free from the demons and constant oppression' celebration. Sandy's out spreading the word. Oh, Tripitaka, here's the seat of honor," Pigsy continued and hurried around the counter to shoo her to a rickety and scarred table up against the wall near the fireplace. It had been moved there to be out of the way, but it afforded a wide view of the kitchen and was large enough for her, Monkey, and the demon to sit with some elbow space, but when Monkey took a chair and fixed a baleful glare at the demon, the demon stood to the side in a show of mocking obeisance. Pigsy's attention was fully on her, and he paid no mind to either Monkey or the demon. "I have something special for you. Don't go anywhere!"

With the agility his weight belied, Pigsy scurried off to an unseen corner of the kitchen. The women continued their work at the ovens and two peeled off to dump the excessive quantity of chopped vegetables into a huge pot, boiling and brimful of aromatic liquid. One of the women brought over a loaf of crusty, steaming bread and set a teapot and a dainty porcelain teacup on the table so Tripitaka could reach it. She poured golden liquid into the cup, lifted it to her nose, and inhaled to the bottom of her lungs. Ah, the tea smelled black and uncompromising and bitter enough to peel paint from a wall and her memories of the Scholar broke past the clouds which scudded across her mind. She suppressed the grief she harbored deep in her heart and kept her face neutral. She could not let her emotions affect her foray into conversation with the demon. Concentrating, careful to avoid a burnt tongue, she sipped on the tea. The effect of it was immediate and she gained her courage to confront Monkey.

"Monkey," she said, resolved, "please move your seat and let the demon sit beside me."

Monkey had broken the bread and had gobbled at least a quarter of it down. His cheeks stuffed with half-masticated food, he looked at her, confused. "Move? To a different chair?"

"I must speak with the demon."

Monkey chewed and swallowed the bread, and she at first thought he wouldn't obey. "Madness," he muttered, and rose to shuffle to the third chair at the other end of the average-sized table.

"Demon? Will you join us, please?" she asked.

The demon watched with haughty aloofness and he pierced her with his gaze. "I don't understand, master."

"Sit in this chair." Tripitaka gestured to Monkey's former place.

The demon glanced at the chair and then to her. "Why?"

She was ready for the question. "As your master, I have commanded you. Is my command not enough?"

He frowned, a slight downward twitch of his mouth, before he swept aside his black cloak and took the seat closest to her with detached dignity. Hm. Interesting. When she had requested the demon to sit, he had been confused, but when she had commanded him, he was more inclined to obey- -after a reason was given. The demon was not used to being treated as a sentient being, she surmised. He, as a sentinel, was used to commands, but commands with purpose. Or, she thought, he again put on a show of compliance to drop our guards. Monkey scowled on, unhappy with the proceedings. Tripitaka breathed in deep the pungent black tea and sipped on the cup once more. Monkey mauled another section of the bread loaf. Of what was left, Tripitaka tore a portion and offered it to the demon.

"Have some. You must be hungry," she said to see what he'd say.

The same characteristic look of scorn. He put the bread hunk on the table. "I have already stated demons do not consume human food."

"What do demons consume for food?"

"The blood of the innocent," he told her, deadpan. "An occasional soul or two."

She raised her brow, sensing the lie. "How often do you feed?"

"As frequently as the need arises."

"When you use your magic, I assume."

"Yes, you are correct."

"Here you are!" Pigsy interrupted as he sailed to the table with a platter heaped with fruit and some bowls of sauce. "Apples are in season, thankfully. I have some good, sweet chutney here, honey here, raspberry reduction here, and goat cheese. Oh, and bowls of hearty oatmeal." Three bowls of piping hot oatmeal were placed in front of each of them. Pigsy went on to set their places, "Spoons. Napkins. Monkey, remember what we discussed about table manners."

"Yeah, yeah," Monkey said, though his hands had already brought the oatmeal bowl to his lips.

Tripitaka smiled at Pigsy. "Thank you. It looks delicious."

Pigsy returned her smile and headed off to the center of the kitchen to conduct the feast preparations. The demon continued to frown as Tripitaka and Monkey partook of Pigsy's breakfast spread. The demon looked on with curiosity and faint disgust as Monkey ate with slightly more control than he did the first day he was out of the rock. Tripitaka tucked into the oatmeal and kept a weather eye on the demon and tried not to be amused. The demon used the spoon to prod at the oatmeal in the bowl, stirring it, sniffing it, and inspecting it as though it was an ancient mystery to solve.

In a split decision, she decided to surprise him. "Demon," she said, "I want to give you a name."

The cold eyes flashed at her; he froze, completely, no movement of muscle or cloth or hair. Though his face did not betray it, she sensed a great conflict rage inside him. He retreated inward, the icy gaze moved beyond her, and his presence shifted to the ethereal; he was a creature bound by the barest, thinnest thread to this world. After a moment, he put aside the spoon and relaxed his hands to his lap. What had happened inside him? Which side won? She had no doubts as to a duel between warring emotions, but why the war? "I have told you I have no need for a name."

"You don't need a name when you exist in the Font," Tripitaka specified. "You're in our realm now. You need a name so we can call you if we need to. Also, I can't have everyone going around saying 'it' and 'the demon' to refer to you. It is fair for you to have a special name of your own."

"I see."

His quiet acceptance of her logic fascinated her. "Is there a name you want to have?"

Blue eyes fired a haughty stare along his nose. "I will accept whatever name you assign me, mortal." Pride there, as though he had a secret name picked out and she'd have to guess it to win him over.

"Then Frightface it shall be."

She laughed outright when his pale features hardened, but despite the fierceness of his look, the flesh had a soft glow like marble. Was his skin cold or warm? At least he had the decency to look vexed. "If…that is my master's will," he said with difficulty.

"No," she said to let him off the hook. "Not Frightface."

"Why not?" asked Monkey, who had followed the conversation. "His face is certainly frightful. It's a fitting name. I say we go with Frightface." Monkey leaped to the tabletop. "Everyone! I have an announcement! The demon is hereby dubbed Frightface. Pass the word."

Pigsy, from his position at the stove, clanged the ladle on the side of the pot. "Here, here!"

Tripitaka shook her head. 'Frightface' was not what she had in mind for the demon's name, but the tease would serve to drop the demon from the heights of his arrogance to a more humble station. However, Frightface was not a respectful name and even though the demon had performed terrible deeds, deserving of punishment and atonement, she decided Frightface would not be the name she used. It had rather a negative connotation- -as though people ought to be frightened of him. She looked at the demon, the pale hair streaming over his shoulders and chest, and the inked letters on his forehead winked out at her.

A sudden idea flashed, and she had her answer. He should be known as Rune. Yes, Rune would do.

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 **A/N:** A short chapter to get in the swing of things. I couldn't help but tease and laugh at our characters! Next chapter, I may visit the demon's side of things. Leave some love in the comments section. Until next time, y'all!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Surprise, dear readers and lurkers! It's a little late for the New Year, but within the same week is good, right? Right. Please enjoy.

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 **~ Chapter 3 ~**

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 **They had left Pigsy** in charge of the kitchen; Sandy continued to be absent. With the feast set for early afternoon, Tripitaka had a few hours to herself. Well, so to speak. She didn't dare let Rune wander by himself; how he had kept alive under Monkey's hyper-scrutiny while she slept nearly 24 hours she'd never know. She had rather he stay near her so she could monitor him without a cunning plan from Monkey to kill him on the sly. Monkey was well-intentioned, if not honorable, and he would try to keep his promise to avoid killing Rune outright, but even sometimes Monkey could be easy prey to temptation and taunts.

The three of them were in the library where she had spent long, solitary hours in Devari's clutches. Dust and mold had disintegrated many parchments to mere scraps, but most were in good condition. After she rummaged about, she found the drawers of file cards- -even gods had to keep things organized- -and rifled through the alphabetized cards to find the relevant subject.

"We should be patrolling the village streets," complained Monkey from his seat on the window ledge. "It's a waste of time to look at meaningless old scribbles."

Tripitaka glanced from the open parchment in front of her. It didn't have anything to do with the sacred scrolls, but the topic had caught her attention on the card as she thumbed them. When she'd opened the folded parchment, the first line had her riveted…and curious. The fusty style of the writing would take work to translate, but it might be worth it if it augmented her woeful knowledge of demons and their artifacts. "Devari's plans may be in these 'old scribbles'. You could be helpful and search the throne room for any relevant information."

"Would master care for me to look?" asked Rune. He stood in a shadowed corner where he loomed like some sepulchral creature. When she had assigned him his name in the kitchen, he had not argued; he had not thanked her; he had sat with an inscrutable expression, almost as though he had absorbed the new name deep within him. The look had been a moment, nothing more, and in the next second he had jibed Monkey and everything had gone back to normal. "Devari did write messages to demons in control of other regions, and he also collected pertinent information about the sacred scrolls."

A tempting idea, but she could not let information about the scrolls' locations fall into a demon's hands under any circumstances. The god's language was beyond a demon's capacity to learn- -hence the reason Devari needed the gods to translate for him. Though she had a reasonable assumption that Rune could not read the god's language, he may tuck away a map or a slip of paper for later usage…or bargaining. She didn't think Devari would leave important translations lying around for anyone to see; as paranoid and power-hungry as he was, he'd have a secret box somewhere, and even should Rune find it, she didn't dare let him handle the documents, translated or not.

"No. I'll look through these parchments first and then we can search the throne room together," she said and caught the barest glint of annoyance in the demon's eyes. "Do you disagree, Rune?"

"Very wise of you not to trust me," he replied. He lifted his hands from where they had hung loose and white at his sides, but dropped them again as though they were too heavy to keep raised. "There are many things you do not know about me."

"All mysteries can be solved with time," she answered, quoting the Scholar. Rune's quick, startled glance satisfied her. _There are many things you do not know about_ me, _either._

"But it's so boring here," Monkey continued with a dramatic sigh. "There's nothing to do."

"If you had bothered to learn the god's language, you could help your master," said Rune. "A dull blade is useless."

Monkey shot a bewildered glare at Tripitaka. "You told him?"

"I promise you I said nothing," she said and scowled with disapproval at Rune. "How did you find out?"

Rune scoffed. "Any fool can see he doesn't understand the language, same as me. If he understood it, you'd have him reading these pieces of paper _with_ you instead of interrupting every five minutes with childish complaints."

"I am not childish!" Monkey hopped off the sill and took a defensive posture. "I dare you to say it again!"

"Searching the throne room might be a better use of our time," Tripitaka said to avert another verbal spar. With gentle hands, she folded the ancient parchment, tied it, and secured it inside her tunic- -it was more precious than gold to her. "I had only hoped there might be some clues left here. Clearly, all relevant information to the sacred scrolls has long been removed or destroyed."

She led Monkey and Rune to the throne room, but perhaps 'throne room' was a misnomer. As she stood in the middle of the blighted room- -floor tiles grungy and filthy; the walls pitted, peeling, and scarred; the silken banners grayed and in tatters- -she noticed how out of place Devari's throne was. She realized he had probably brought it in when he took over Jade Mountain as Monkey's master had not believed in a king; she had witnessed as much through Monkey's memories. Any throne in this room was placed here after the fall of the gods- -it was _Devari's_ symbol of power. The sight of it sickened her, and she wished she had the strength to tear it apart, to smash it to pieces and hurl the disgusting bits over the balcony's edge into the void.

"Show us the secret spaces, Rune," she commanded. When he gazed at her and didn't move, a quizzical expression reflected in the drawn brow, she tilted her chin and refused to be the terrified little girl hidden in a hole. "You have the ability to uncover secret places. You did so in the Scholar's house to find Monkey's crown."

Rune glared at her. Surprised? Confused? She wasn't sure. "Ah. I felt your presence behind the wall. I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Yes, you should have. Now show us," she repeated.

He seemed exasperated again, but reached out his hand to the room at large. She felt the power in him rush outwards into the area like low inaudible throbs pulsating to every corner. The pulsations rattled in her chest and gut, squeezing her lungs, same as before when he had killed the other Tripitaka, his two travel companions, and the Scholar. The fine hairs lifted on her neck and arms, and she ignored the stab of fear to her chest. Within seconds, they heard a grating noise- -stone on stone, as one of the floor tiles shifted to reveal a small opening. On the heels of the grating stone, wood creaked, splintered, and scattered to the floor. A cabinet toppled to the side, showing a narrow doorway in the wall. Once the openings were revealed, Rune's power dissipated and Tripitaka could breathe easy once more.

She first crouched over the shallow hole in the floor. An ornate wooden box rested at the bottom of the space. When she leaned down, stretching her arms to get the box, Monkey stopped her with an abrupt hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," he said. "I don't trust it. It could be trapped."

"A space Devari frequently used?" asked Rune. "He was cautious, not stupid."

"Then _you_ get the box," Monkey told him.

"Very well." Rune stooped, his pale hair draped forward, his cloak a silken puddle behind him, and in one fluid movement, grasped the box. As soon as his hands touched the wood, a crack like thunder deafened them, and a blaze of light blistered in the room. Wind whistled. Tripitaka felt heat and smelt the ozone. A brief flash, nothing more, and the room returned to normal. The box was in one piece at the bottom of the hole, but Rune was sprawled on the floor near the wall furthest from them. He was prostrate, arms and long legs outspread, hair and cloak in a muddle around him. Evidently, the strike had slammed him against the wall, and then he'd fallen face-down to the floor. Relieved he hadn't been returned to the Font, Tripitaka knelt at his side and smoothed away his hair.

"Rune? Are you okay?" She rotated him to his back and pressed her ear to his chest before she thought to question whether demons had heartbeats. Gods did- -it stood to reason demons would as well…or so she told herself. While she listened, she caught a whiff of smoky campfire and the tooled leather of his armor. In the silence, she heard the slow, quiet thump of his heartbeat, and when she held the back of her hand just above his nose and mouth, felt his breath stir. "He's alive at least. Monkey, what happened?"

Monkey didn't respond to her, and when she looked at him, he had already reached into the hole and hoisted out the wooden box. He shook it near his head- -she heard it rattle and watched as he fiddled with the clasp on the front. The entire time his posture was too casual, his eyes avoided hers, and he was very studious about the box.

"Something's inside, but the lid is locked," he announced. "I could pry it off with my staff, Tripitaka."

"Monkey? Did you see the trap beforehand?"

He scoffed; a poor attempt to be innocent. "Frightface is a demon. What difference does it make?"

And for some reason, Monkey's dismissive, unconcerned manner angered her. She stood and approached him, jabbing him in the chest with her forefinger as she spoke. "What _difference_ does it _make_? Monkey, I was inside your memories at the Shaman's breaking grounds. All the gods were convinced you had murdered the Master and stolen the sacred scrolls for your own selfish purposes." Monkey backed away from her onslaught until he bumped into the wall, surprised with her emotion. "You were punished for 500 years because everyone believed you were capable of such a monstrosity. Aren't you judging Rune the same way you were judged all that time ago?"

"Why do you defend him? He actually _did_ murder innocent people."

" _Because he was ordered._ " She sighed to calm herself and stepped away. "The Font binds him to the summoner…that much is evident. Devari used him as a weapon, like we would a knife. A knife is a tool until it is used to take away innocent life. Rune is the knife. Whoever wields him determines his alignment and his purpose…for good or evil."

A light of realization dawned in Monkey's face, but a sputter, followed by a dry cough, interrupted her. Tripitaka left Monkey to his epiphany and went to offer Rune help. He squirmed on the floor before she stopped him with her hand on his chest. "Lie still. Recover yourself."

He nodded and meekly obeyed her. Some throw pillows were scattered at the foot of the throne, so she took one to prop Rune's head off the hard floor. His skin was even more pallid than usual and deep purple half-moons hung under his eyes. Several minutes passed. Her hand, of its own volition, stroked Rune's long hair; she didn't expect it to be as soft and textured as human hair. Was he asleep? He seemed relaxed, but then he swallowed and his brow furrowed. "No need to wait by my side, master. I will regenerate with time."

"Are you in pain?"

"I feel nothing."

Alarmed, she asked, "Is that normal for you?"

He opened his eyes to study her, but couldn't pull together his usual cold scorn. "Of course. Demons do not feel pain…or any physical or emotional sensation."

A demon's physical aspect she was sure was true, but not the emotional one. She had witnessed or heard tell Raxion, Locke, and Devari infuriated and impatient, envious and flirtatious; Rune himself had been sarcastic and annoyed in several of their encounters. "How long do you rest in instances like this one?"

"It depends on the strength of the magic. I was strong enough to withstand the spell, but barely. A weaker demon would have been destroyed." He was quiet a moment. "Half a day, perhaps longer, will be required before I am fully recovered."

"Is it possible to restore your strength without waiting?"

"Little monk, must you ask so many questions? It is quite difficult to endure your infernal curiosity while unable to escape."

Rune was at _her_ mercy; she would take advantage of it while she could. "Is it possible?"

"Yes."

When he didn't continue, she prompted him. "How-"

"Tripitaka!" voiced Monkey from the secret room. "I think we found what we're looking for!"

Rune wasn't inclined to speak further on the subject, so she left his side to meet Monkey. Inside and centered was a large table with a margin of space around the edges for a person to stand. On the table was a map of the continent with various markings on it. Circles, scribbles, crosses, and arrows marred the names and illustrations of the map. Besides the map on the table, the walls were covered with parchment, pinned to the soft plaster with sharp needles in the corners. Pages and pages of annotated text were present, and Tripitaka saw Devari's obsession reflected in the meticulous research. He had been busy the last 500 years, but despite his careful records, he'd managed to find and translate only one of the scrolls. Tripitaka supposed she ought to be relieved, but a part of her was agog at how daunting their task was.

"Great work, Monkey," she said. Monkey leafed through a journal, the wooden box set to the side. "We must find a way to guard this study and the Font. Do you know of any way we can place a spell on the doorway? Or even some way of hiding the presence of the room?"

"Uh…Sandy might know. I'm not really one for woo-woo type stuff." After a moment, he tossed the journal to the table and gestured around him. "Devari was my best friend, but he was a bad guy the whole time. He was the cause of everything. How did it happen? How was I so blind?"

"I'm sorry you were betrayed. Maybe something here will help answer your questions." Tripitaka leaned to inspect the map. "Are these circled locations accurate to your memory?"

Monkey bent to study the map as well. "Eh, yes? Maybe? I flew around on my cloud, so I remember what the landscape looked like, not the exact locations according to a map."

"I see." In that case, she had some reading to do. Where to begin? Tripitaka took up a small square of blank parchment and a quill and prepared to jot out a quick note. "We can't help it. We need to conceal this room and make sure no one pokes around. I'll write a note. You'll have to find someone in the palace to deliver it to Sandy while I stay here and keep an eye on Rune."

"I have a better plan. I'll stand guard and you go in search of Sandy. I promise to keep good watch."

Tripitaka should have expected Monkey's refusal to leave her alone with the sentinel, but his concern for her well-being was a great comfort. She nodded in agreement because really, he _had_ learned his hard lesson not to neglect guard duty. Before she turned to leave, she cast an eye over Rune, who had not moved an inch and looked like a corpse left on the floor. "I trust you. I'll be back soon."

As she swung by the kitchen to inform Pigsy of her plans, she debated whether to send word with the note or go in search of Sandy herself. While the note would free her to return to the maps and Devari's research, she ought to be seen in the village. People trusted a monk, especially one who had freed Jade Mountain from a demon's rule, and they would talk to her about stories or rumors or provide eyewitness accounts of various goings-on in the village. Yes, she could achieve two results with one action.

Outside, the cloudless sky was bright with sunshine and the temperature balmy. When she had first entered the village, the streets had been deserted, gloomy and dark under the pall of the demon's rule. How one eventful night changed everything! Shutters were thrown open as wives shook out rugs; colorful, freshly washed linens and clothes fluttered in the breeze on rooftops; children played tag in the streets as vendors hawked their items, no longer in fear of displeasing a demon and losing their livelihood. The oppressed masses had come alive and teemed throughout the dusty streets.

Her first stop was the local tavern. Monica had taught her taverns were an informational hub, frequented by travelers, government officials, and townsfolk alike who shared the news both from across borders and up and down the social hierarchy. She got directions, found the place, and entered the door to a bustling crowd, the tables and floor space near to bursting with flavorful people. Braver since the first time she ventured into a bar, Tripitaka approached the counter where a man with a formidable moustache poured ale into tankards.

"Excuse me?" When the barkeep harrumphed at her, she continued, undaunted. "I'm looking for a friend. She's tall with white hair and wears dark clothes."

At the barkeep's pointed gaze at the patrons, Tripitaka turned around and caught a glimpse of three tall women with white hair who wore dark clothes. Ah.

"Has a battle ax and a bone necklace?"

"Oh! Yes," said the barkeep. "She was in here awhile ago, advertising for a feast up at the palace. Me'n the missus're looking forward to it, I'll say. It's been a spell since we had a day off from our duties. Everyone who's come in has had something to say about Jade Mountain freed from them demons." He paused a moment and studied her. "Say, you wouldn't be the monk people're saying defeated Devari and his crew? I knew it," he continued even before she acknowledged or denied his conclusion, "you have a look about you. I suppose we all ought to be grateful for what you've done, giving us something to hope for. A divine gift from the gods, I'd say. How about a round on the house? We have some crusty bread and a passable soup if you're hungry."

"Thank you. You are so kind, but I must decline your invitation. I have urgent news to share with my friend. Did she mention where she would be going next?"

"Yes, she did in fact. We've got a marketplace down a few streets. It's ideal for spreading news. Out the door, go right and straight on down the road. You can't miss it."

Tripitaka thanked the barkeep once more for his information and hospitality. She strode along the street, determined to catch up to Sandy, and came into the marketplace where a larger grouping of merchants had set up stalls of food, beverages, and other goods. Sandy wasn't there, but Tripitaka was told she had been directed to an abandoned temple towards the southeast side of the village. The merchant warned her away- -stories of ghosts and evil spirits colored the temple as an undesirable place to be, and in fact, Devari had cursed the temple when he drove out the monks long ago.

A temple was another avenue of information Tripitaka could explore, but she doubted she would find anything useful after it had been seemingly abandoned for such a long time. And why would Devari leave it standing anyway? Why not burn it to the ground in an attempt to eradicate all former glory and power of the gods? Perhaps Devari, as vain as he was, believed when he became a god, he could use the temple as the center of worship for himself. With that unsettling thought, Tripitaka hurried along narrow streets and up a rocky, unkempt footpath.

The temple wasn't large and overlooked the village on a hillock which nestled against the mountainous cliffs. Gray granite from Jade Mountain had been sculpted and cut into smooth blocks to build the walls and pillars of the temple. Dandelions and grass grew between cracks in the paved walkways. Wildflowers crowded into a front courtyard, and verdant ropes of ivy clung to the columns and veiled walkways and windows. For it being 'haunted', the temple was full of small wildlife. Tripitaka heard birds chirp and the chatter of squirrels and insects hum around the flowers and pools of quiet water, not stagnant even after the centuries. She relaxed- -the temple was serene.

She stepped into the hewn entrance, shadowed and cool from the morning sun and heat. "Sandy?" Her voice echoed in the halls. "Sandy? Are you here?"

Parts of the ceiling had caved. Where the sunlight streamed in, flora thrived. Tripitaka roamed to her heart's content, wondering at the pieces of artful statues scattered in alcoves, peeking into darker doorways where the wood had rotted clean off the hinges, and frequently calling for Sandy. Soon, Tripitaka came to an upwards flight of steps. She had not seen a second floor from the front of the temple. Curious, she followed the steps, the path well lighted with dappled sunshine from jagged holes overhead. At the top was a large chamber carved inside the mountain itself. Somehow faint light reached to the depths of the chamber. The floor, columns, and walls were ornamented in pictographs, not characters, and Tripitaka yearned to use parchment and coal to make rubbings of the beautiful shapes. As she puzzled over their meaning, touching the cool walls with gentle fingertips, a familiar symbol snagged her attention.

 _Was that…?_

She believed it was! Excitement washed through her as she fumbled inside her tunic for the folded parchment from the library. When she unfolded it and angled the paper to catch the most light, her theory was confirmed. The pictographs and the parchment both were marked with the same symbol- -a type of urn with lines emanating from it. A humanoid figure hovered above the urn's opening as though the urn sucked it in. She closed the parchment to search the dim recess of the chamber. Towards the back, in another alcove, was a type of altar. On the altar was a stand, and unless she was mistaken, the stand was the same size as the bottom of the Font.

Questions whizzed around her mind. Was the Font created by the gods? Its properties suggested very powerful beings created it. But for what purpose? Was it meant as a prison for demons? Or did a powerful demon create it so he (or she) could have access to an infinite army? Had the monks who once lived in the temple protect the Font? How did Rune fit into everything?

A whisper stirred Tripitaka from her musings…a faint footstep. She whirled around. No one stood in the square of light shining in from the entrance. Her flesh crawled, awash in a sudden cold sweat. "Sandy? Are you here?"

From beside her, the air stirred as a presence solidified.

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 **A/N:** I have been debating for awhile now if I should write a chapter from Rune's perspective. I might attempt it with chapter four, but we'll see. I like having him sinister and mysterious. Let me know your thoughts, and leave me some love in the comments. Thanks for reading!


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